


Wanting Need

by Deiwimin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brainwashing, Captivity, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Perhaps Insanity, Poor Theon, Psychological Torture, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Rape, Stockholm Syndrome, Thramsay is its own warning, Torture, You Got Thysen Into This, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-10-06 00:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiwimin/pseuds/Deiwimin
Summary: Reek learns to need his master.





	1. No One More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Thramsay post ever, if you're reading this...why thank you~

It was evening, and his jaw hurt like every other ill decision he's made. Reek could still taste the rust of his blood, feel the ache through his abused gums. He was sure they'd all fall off soon. His teeth, that is. Reek had been strapped back onto the rack, but the pain in his limbs could not compare to what was his evidently shattered mouth. He dared not run his tongue across the now sharp incomplete teeth anymore. It cut him the first and second time.

He shouldn't have smiled. Reek should have known the lord would be upset. In fact, he deserved it for his gross incompetence. Some echoing voice inside of him offered to argue otherwise, though Reek dismissed it with his quiet sobs. It was his fault in the first place, and he's trying to land Reek back into trouble. Reek just wanted it not to hurt anymore, was it so offending a desire? Maybe that man inside was true, but Reek was so very afraid of the lord Ramsay. His lord Ramsay,the creature found his correction appropriate, lest the man himself walked in. Ramsay always knew his thoughts; he saw right through him. If he came to doubt Reek's loyalty, he did not wish to think of the outcome.

Ramsay only left him in his own company a while ago. Reek has recently began to fear his own company. His mind, more particularly put. When his lord was away, the treacherous ideas would slither into his head, filling it with hopeless nonsense. The man, the prince inside him would give him the worst, betraying advice.

He felt so stiff on that cruel rack, yet Theon insisted they run, escape. But didn't the kraken know this was his fate now? There was no use. Theon wanted to believe that his father, of all men would grant help, come save him. But did Balon not show Theon the disfavour he deserved already? Reek could not trust Theon anymore, he was too much a fool, though tempting was his suggestion of the light. Besides, there already was brightness in the cell. Enough to make out shadows.

Ramsay also began allowing the boys to play with him less and less, and that was enough light for Reek. Lord Ramsay made so much effort to teach him about greed and what it does to Reek. So it would be madness to crave more niceties. They would often come in, but the boy's visits hadn't been as damaging as some of the times before. Though Reek supposed it was because his lord was occupied with the recent politics outside of the walls. He lost another finger two weeks ago, his pointing one. But it wasn't as despairing as it was for the last digit. So there was Reek's light. Not much, but as bright as he deserved.

Ever since he was locked up, time was but a faraway luxury. His days could be hours, his minute days. Only Ramsay owned sense in Reek's little world of fear.

He calmed again; after some time of making small pained noises, his breath smoothed out a lot more. Reek swallowed his own blood still, but his heart had slowed in beats. It seemed he was to be left alone for the night. Reek closed his eyes, sleep slowly overtaking his conscious. He dreamt of green, and some red hair. Perhaps of a princely figure too. What he noticed not, was the wide shade of a man appearing by the entrance, breathing heavily. Gazing intensely, also feeling intensely. On all the places of interest.

Next day was no different from the others, he was left on his wooden prison, starvation hitting him like a brick in the stomach. For once he hoped for Ramsay to come, maybe he could grant him a scrap, or even better, a sip of water. Reek had long given up the idea of dying; his lord would never let him. Theon tried, he begged, he struggled in the past. It only made it worse. Alyn strangled him, and let go just when he was turning white. Damon beat him with a flog to near death, only to take him to the maester afterwards. Skinner cut deep, but only let so much blood flow out. So Reek never asked for anything unless it was offered. Even then he had to be careful. They loved to trip him up. Especially his lord Ramsay.

Reek now avoids most of the traps laid and prepared for him. If they wanted a victim to hurt however; pain was always inevitable. It seems at times that his lord was not completely satisfied with him. Maybe that is why he is still being hurt bad, and has parts taken away from him. But Reek always tried his best, he didn't know what more he could give. He had nothing left, everything went to his captor. Even Robb was dead. Although perhaps it was better that way. Robb would no doubt loathe him if he saw the 'Theon' of late. He was no prince, he was meek, weak, Reek the freak.

That day Reek was left all abandoned, ignored and he could do nothing of it.

-❤️-

When Ramsay finally came back for him he was every inch of his little Reek again. The strange longing in his breast suggested just how he underestimated the desperation for company. When he said he had a new lesson for Reek, Reek could only focus on that kind, so kind hand, running its fingers through his matted hair. He said he would do anything to learn, anything for his kind, so kind lord. His lord's plump lips curled joyfully, and that's how Reek knew it was a good answer. Ramsay then pulled out a flask, and Reek's eyes couldn't stop following it. It make his lord chuckle. "Oh little Reek, how you amuse me so. Want some fresh sip of water? I can grant you this want, only if you answer me correctly. Are you listening sweetling?" He could only nod, and pathetically gaze at the flask in delirium as Ramsay shook for the splashes to sound. Eventually he forced a weak 'yes, m'lord' out of himself.

"Very well Reek, so then, why are you on the rack?" It took Reek a few moments, but his mind was also rushing him, as he knew how impatient his lord was when it came to answering his questions. He already was thankful Ramsay hadn't snapped yet. "I am here because I deserve it. I have taken advantage of my patient lord's time because I have yet to be trusted." He thought he did well but.  
"Reek, that was too well thought out. I want you to think less, to find me the truth. I'm a kind lord so I shall give you a second chance. Don't waste it." the words were dressed in a light-hearted tone, and yet laced with danger. Reek dryly swallowed.

"Thank you my lord, thank you for a second chance, the truth is that I am here to learn my lessons, to be a better Reek to my lord." At that, Ramsay beamed.

"Yes, very good Reek! You shall have your sips." Reek watched as the lid was popped off with anticipation, watched as his lord took two large swigs and gulped them down first. He swallowed in imitation, but his throat was hoarse, and dry. When the flask was offered to him, the lips of the bottle never tasted so sweet, soothing his sore gums. He took only what he was allowed, even though his more primal reflexes urged him to tilt his head and push more liquid into his mouth. He never saw the leering, hungry stare, that went after his every moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely don't have a clue as to where I'm going with this, just left inconsistent fragments of plot in my mind.  
Also I'm relatively new to the 'interacting online scene', (meaning I almost know no-one from our thramster fandom) so if anyone is up for talking about this pairing in general you are most welcome!


	2. Must

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet, sweet Moat Cailin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this...thing!

The water had given Reek a newfound energy, and kept him more motivated throughout the day's time. He was finally allowed down the rack, only to keep his limbs from losing their use. The heavily dull pain in his mouth could almost be ignored. It was surely better than most times. Although sadly, it was almost impossible to chew his food, every bite was torturous, and each grind was threatening more sufferings.

Ramsay rather liked watching his Reek's painful attempts at consumption. The first day he gave him a piece of roast pork; enjoying the look on his face as the salty stock seeped into his weak gums, hurting him even more. It was almost as awful as the tough meat he had to press his teeth onto. In fact, he'd bleed with every chew, tasting the iron of his blood. He should be used to it by now, though it made him shudder slightly, each time he'd have it run through his tongue. Still he thanked his generous lord, for a generous meal. After all, it was many better than starving, was it not?

After the third day, something of a marvel happened. Reek did not need to feel the excruciating pain coming from his own mouth anymore. It stopped when his kind lord told him to lean closer. Bewildered as Reek was; he did as was told. Ramsay had a small plate with him, on it a spoon, and some left over pie. He began crushing the crust in the gravy, squishing it into a darkened mush. He said the spoon might hurt Reek's teeth, and so fed his prisoner with his own fingers. Ramsay took care to go only up to his lips, never pressing in deeper. Ramsay was right, he could be nice. His lord could be nice if Reek obeyed, be good. Reek could feel it, just like the rich tasty mixture he was being finger fed to; from his lord's own fingers!

Reek couldn't help but stare, at times now gape at the man who offered undeserved kindness to him, in admiration. Yes, he could bring hurt anytime, and that was often. But it would only be because Reek wasn't good enough, was too daft, not understanding. When his lord asked for a favour of him, Reek was so scared. But he had to do it, if only to keep his fingers for another few weeks, and perhaps see to Ramsay's delight. There is a certain sort of smile his lord kept for when he was feeling benevolent, and Reek knew he could not fail it.

Moat Cailin was cold, not colder than the Dreadfort though, and Reek had warm clothes and furs for a change. He kept on reminding himself of his name, to avoid any instances; where he forgot. He was Reek the slave, who rhymed with sneak. It was frightfully hard to stay trusty for his lord, for the luxury of the vestments treated him too kind, letting the real prince almost force himself into perfect control. Of course Reek needed him for his task, but he could not allow the taking over of his conscious. His lord counted on him. If he failed, he'd have seven of the hells to pay.

The piece of him that was still Theon Greyjoy gave him a tremendous amount of conflict inside of him. The whole time he mumbled the rhymes to himself, thankfully not arousing enough attention to make them doubt him. They were too fatigued, homesick and hungry to notice either way. Who would care for a few trembles and a whisper or two, when they could face going back home and having food back in their bellies. Their ‘prince’ was there too, they shouldn’t need too many more reassurances.  
It tore the kraken in him when he spotted the lord Ramsay slaughtering them, and then skinning them for sport. They were never to see their homeland again, Theon Turncloak saw to that.

Reek was still filled with unease. Such confusing thought was not easy burden for simple, daft little Reek. Thankfully his lord took over for him, with a satisfied grin; full of bliss from the devious triumph. Ramsay’s lengthy hair would stick in parts, making his greasy stands clump together from the blood. Light red splatters also appeared on his face, dried up already. The excitement was evident in his eyes, just as intense as the chills in the dungeon on nights of winters’ storms. He called Reek old friend, and held him close. The lips on his cheek were wet and soft, lingering for long. Lasting in his senses. Reek could not contain a shiver.

Then the horrifying question came. Of course he was no prince, he was no man either. Reek was weak, meek, bleak, and those were no qualities of men. He was Ramsay’s creature. The tiny shout in his head was easy to resist, when Ramsay was there to help him focus on what was asked of him. He finally asked for his wine.

When Ramsay granted him a place in the kennels and titled new dog, it made Reek feel things. Gratitude was among the more acceptable emotions. He had the status of a pet now, meaning Ramsay could love him more, he hoped. He could already imagine the warmth of the straws, compared to the rack. Ramsay was not just his lord anymore, but his master as well. If he proved himself a tame bitch, master said he may even be let in midday or nighttime meals, beg for one bone or a couple. Reek had promised to be a good dog for his lord and master, that Reek be making the best of his effort to learn what must be.

The red in the cup was a comfort beyond relief. It tasted strong, since it had been so long his body was fed any wine at all. It was sweet some, though not a sweet wine. Ample, very much enough for his pressured spirit. It made him lose clarity in sight, as very well as loosened his mind off the silenced torment in his heart.

The accomplishments of the wine soon unraveled after a time; Reek’s head rid of the fog as the skies darkened. Stars from somewhere far beyond slowly boasting their shine. The air was chilled, yet it was not so bad, as there were torches and Bolton men all around.

It was the right moment for the celebratory feast, where the men would sing in jolly tones and too loudly for Reek's tastes. It was a fact that they had already begun shouting in joy, happy to be drinking on their victory, as all men from all lands would. Reek felt understanding to a depth. Food was still being set, the animals just skinned or slaughtered. There was a hog slowly roasting now, and all of them stared at it almost stumbling in drool. It had been a long day, a day Reek would not be forgetting so swift. The betrayed screams and desperate gasps for life haunted him.

Any seemingly staying thought left as Ramsay came to take Reek into one of the halls of the Moat. Some of the men were already in place, while others followed through inside. Torchfire blazed the space into soft heat. Ramsay told him that as his dog he was meant to crawl, and heel to his master. However his master said he should take time to teach him those lessons. He told Reek he planned to discipline him at home. It gave Reek something to expect when they head back. It did worry him, as this was a prospect of more pain.

When the food arrived Ramsay drank and ate hearty; his thick lips covered with warm grease, smeared down to his chin. At some point he also dropped a soft shaving of chicken leg and a pig's rib for his pet to have at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a turning point where things may be about to take an 'ugly' turn. (Not to us Thramsters though!) 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading, and if you have anything you want to say, no matter how silly you think it is, do share it!!  
Kudos and comments would be always warmly welcomed XD


	3. Bend Thyself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek is introduced to one more use he could have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit things ahead~

For once, ever since they departed for their journey; leaning pliantly docile next to his lord’s boots, Reek felt true comfort. He was overjoyed when he was given the few scraps from his master, so virtuous. He needed not to stand for the moment, not having to face judicious stares. However much time he spent with Ramsay he could never quite shake off the humiliation that came with being himself. Being seen at all. He knew everyone took joy in ridiculing him, pointing and laughing. The rest simply hated, no. Loathed him. Therefore he indeed was content on the ground; gazing at nothing in particular, having zoned out slightly.

Ramsay had been roaring at a jest someone made at the table, though it seemed to be in conclude of him participating. Reek was right, and accommodatingly shifted himself so Ramsay had more room to move his legs out. Reek’s lord took some moments, before he placed down his meal and wiped some of the food’s greasy leavings on Reek’s clothes. They were to be burnt afterward either way. His master wouldn’t like to have him walking about in a noble man’s tunics and cloaks. Reek knew his place.

So Ramsay stood up and took his leave; ordering Reek to stand up, wrapping his arm around the creature’s waist, keeping Reek impossibly close. His master was warm though, and it did not hurt a bit, reasons for Reek to decide it was a great kindness on his lord’s side. He could see the slight flush on Ramsay’s cheeks from the wine. He seemed almost satisfied, yet something told him his lord was not happy with ending the night for the time being. He did wonder if he’d be done for the night if he got a nice, soft skinned girl. Reek recalled there were a few women outside, and strangely Ramsay had no words saved for them, throughout their stay.

Reek had no prediction of where he was being taken. He hoped it was not to strip him off more skin or limbs, please, please let it not be a punishment; Reek only became a dog this morning! He surely could not be expecting him to act perfect on his first trial? But his master seemed happy enough, maybe it was a simple walk for retiring to sleep. Reek could not help but become nervous as they walked on, significantly so, when he saw Ramsay eyeing him athirst, in a way no man should. Maybe Reek imagined it, it was dark, and he could not trust himself.

To a halt they came, Ramsay having found some quiet obscure corner, surrounded mostly by stone wall. Reek knew not to speak out of turn, and so stayed silent. His lord pressed himself alarmingly close, thickly whispering for Reek to be good. This made Reek panic through his eyes, as anything else would be seen, and seen unfavourably. Then his lord began touching him. First his inner thigh, trailing up to Reek’s backside, petting a little firmer by the second. The kraken was outraged, and Reek terrified.

Shaking now, he pleaded. He knew it was not a wise choice, yet he was horrified at notion of this perversion. “My lo- master, please don’t! Reek’s never- I’ll be a better pet, anything else, just please not this, please please!” his voice broke into a sob. Reek had crouched a slight bit more, trembling violently. Ramsay hadn’t let him fall onto the ground, holding Reek up, Ramsay spoke to his ear in a taut tone, chilling Reek to the marrow.

“What is this,” He almost hissed. “Are you denying; your lord and master his pleasure? You dare to disobey me? I told you be good. You think yourself a prince again, is it? The journey must have confused your little head, creature. For you are mine, and mine to do anything with.” Ramsay grabbed Reek’s face and twisted it to the side, so he could see him in the eyes. Reek’s were brimming with tears.  
“Master, I’m sorry, I’ll never be bad again, forgive me, please! Reek is scared, but I’ll do anything for my lord!” He managed to keep back a few suddenly threatening heaves.

His master seemingly let the matter of Reek’s resistance temporarily go, as he softened his grip a little. “Do not worry pet, your arrogance is only of those pitiful men feeding your pride. I shall pursue to fuck the Theon Greyjoy out of your weak little body.” He laughed shortly, as if he told a jape meant for only himself. “Do not be too loud, if any man approaches it would be vile manners not to offer you up to him too.” Reek tensed. It was truly to happen, to be used disgracefully by Ramsay’s thickly made cock. He had seen it many a time, as Ramsay took his hunts. Reek was tearing up once more. He so feared the pain to come. At least his lord was kind enough to allow him sustenance. He was surely to be mad if Reek passed out , just as he would do while in the middle of punishing him. Was this a punishment; what for? He dared not ask. He so naively hoped his master would feel proud of him for the Moat. But surprising outbursts were one thing his master was good at.

Having forced him against the wall, Ramsay had now unlaced Reek's breeches and pulled them down, seizing his bony hip unforgivingly. He made a good job out of roughly grinding himself on the cleft of Reek's arse. The broken creature could only palm the walls tensely, stay good.

Stay good while Ramsay's hard cock was rubbing onto him humiliatingly slow. Reek felt a hand on the nape of his neck, and then teeth, so painful teeth, biting deep into his skin. He couldn't not wince, especially when feeling his own blood trickle down his back. Ramsay licked the little streams up, while emitting a low moan. Gore always got him excited. Reek whimpered. He was sure his master would not go gentle on him, he never did, even if they were first timers. Ramsay freed himself off his constraining garment.  
Reek did not want to bleed to death; not like this, who knows what lay on the other side for him? And Ramsay, his lord, would likely find him there, in the lowest depths of the seventh hell and punish him for leaving home at all. Just like his better dreams, though still mest harsh.

He was pushed down some, and Ramsay grabbing both of Reeks sides positioned himself against Reek’s hole, prodding through slowly. The dryness made it difficult to push past the tough ring, but with one forceful shove, the head was in, and Reek bit his lip to stop any loud noise from coming out. He remembered what his lord had said about any passers by. Ramsay then worked his length further in, making Reek wish he could screech out loud, only to have a choking lump stuck through his throat. Thankful for it, he closed his eyes as his master proceeded to thrust into him cruelly, taunting him. Though it soon dissolved, and Reek could not stop the tears rolling, whining in misery, sobbing here and there as Ramsay began to ram into him quicker and harder.

Reek’s face had been scrunched up in agony, hoping for it to finish right there and then. He had never been used like this before, not in this life nor the other. It was a horrible ordeal, hearing his master growling gutturally, Reek almost imagining he was being mauled and claimed by a wild bear. He was bitten again, and again, until he wailed helplessly. “P-please, master mercy!”

“What is it Reek, do you not enjoy my gift to you?” Thrust. “Your master graces you with such an important task of serving him, and all you seem to do is sob.” Getting breathless now as he fucked Reek bloody, he couldn’t speak another word. Ramsay let out a few uncontrollable groans, nearing completion. After all, his new pet was breathtaking in that moment. Even from behind. Just hearing those miserable, restrained sounds sent him into a fit of ecstasy. Reek shut his mouth tightly to muffle his voice and screamed in pain. That’s when his master bucked his hips the last time, and came. Powerfully.

Reek’s master panted briefly before he pulled out of him. Reek shivered, though not from the cold. He remembered what Ramsay just said before and tried his hardest to seem thankful, to reassure his master that it was an honour to be granted this function. Ramsay pulled up his breeches, satisfied. A cruel smile festered itself over his lips. “For daring to disobey me, next time I shall have you in front of all my men.” Reek could now feel his blood and his lord’s come running down his thigh. A reminder that he had been dirtied, or blessed, or both. Reek was a dull creature, it was easy for that other man, the prince; to slip into his thought. Making him feel greater shame than he would alone. Though he was smaller now, a speck. A grain of sand in the shores.

“Yes master, your Reek is grateful for this duty, loyal Reek, will do anything to bring you pleasure! I will be thankful for my punishment, as long as I am alive, master can use me as he sees fit-” Ramsay took him by the hand and told him that’s quite enough, but clearly taking enjoyment in his babbling. He told Reek to dress himself again, and allowed him to sleep on a straw bed. As he did give him Moat Cailin. This time, there was a more sure and solid thanks of pure gratitude in his eyes. Reek slept troubled that night, the cold from his wetted breeches seeped through the fabric and caressed his legs, bringing him visions of the hour last. At least he was separated from the freezing stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately for poor Reek, there is more to come...  
(There's this weird notes glitch layering all the notes together but it seems like it's a common problem?)


	4. Assign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson before leaving the sweet moat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4! (-of who knows how many)

The burning he felt below was most prominent after Reek woke up. His breath slightly hitched recalling the night before, while curling up into a tighter ball of shame. The blood and come long dried, though he could still feel all the places they had dripped upon, there to remain.  
It was enough a disgrace that he not be allowed a cleanse, worse was he knew; however hard he was scrubbed down, the filth would never leave. The taint was deeper than he realised and now it was too late to make any choice of his own. It drove Theon away, far from this cruel intimacy. Only the creature dared face the twisted affections now turned far carnal.

Reek saw a couple of soldiers walking by, stare and exchange looks, their ridiculing aimed at him. It seemed someone had heard, word must have spread. Ramsay passed them, and his eyes almost lit up as they laid upon his pet. He practically sauntered over to his Reek. Reek had just woken, and so stared back with eyes emptied of any intensity. Though fright was always an emotion lurking in the background, it was now languidly seated at some depth in Reek’s person.  
His master lifted his chin up, directing Reek to shift up. This time the kiss was on the mouth; solid and consuming. Even when Reek felt his essence being sucked over, he willingly complied. This was much, much better than being pushed over for a violent morning fuck. Yes, this kiss was deeply kind.  
“Morrow, Reek. How do you feel?” There was his smirk again, waiting to turn into a sneer if Reek was being exceptionally dull.

He knew his master asked of truths even where it would paint him in an uncompassionate light. But that only applied to lessons Ramsay taught. This, was no lesson. Not properly anyways. This was, at least according to his lord; a gift, a new use and duty to be held by. Thus he tread as careful as he could, so early in the day. He seemed graced with good moods; be it because of the Moat or due to his own thoughts, so Reek hoped it meant a lenient day spared. “I am fine m’lord, Reek feels strange in this new place, but I have you; my master.” It held true. He had left out the swollen pain and the dread that came with this new position he stood at.

Ramsay eyed him sceptically as he hauled him up. "Well said Reek, what do you say to a hunt with your master?" Reek nodded hastily, seeing Ramsay's hungry eyes, not wanting him to take anything out on Reek afterwards. He recalled the last time they had a bad hunt, Leira. She just would not budge. She hadn't moved from her spot even a little, despite being given the entire night in advance. Frozen in fear. Ramsay blamed Reek for it afterwards, saying he did not make the message clear to her. That is how Reek received another toe flayed. Ramsay made a bridle out of the girl, forced Reek wear it for days, until it bored him. Little Walder rode him like that once. At Ramsay’s persuasions of course. Reek’s lord would still threaten him with it from time to time. The fear of the dead girl still burned on his face whenever he recalled wearing her skin. It was worse than the back pain from the ride.

The air was crisp, and the unfortunate wench feisty. She had clawed and screamed in anger, her squalls echoing throughout the woods. Reek held her as Ramsay used his knife on the woman, having it dance across her muddy thighs. Sour Alyn and Skinner were close behind, getting ready for their fun. She glared at them, so they stabbed her eyes out. When she kicked at them, Ramsay sliced her leg off. They played until she had no fight left. The three took turns, while Reek stared off onto the withered leaves, soaked in newly wet soil. Ramsay took unusually long to finish, considering how well this time went.

She was left to the dogs, covered in come and her own gore. Like a slab of gruel, unceremoniously tossed to the hogs. At least they fucked the life out of her before the worst. The image of her dark, dark eye sockets were drowning Reek into something awful. So he turned his sights away as Helicent tore the cheek off her face.

When she was but shredded mince on bones, Ramsay embraced his slave tightly from behind, arms crossing at Reek’s waist; and that is when Ramsay’s pet knew this was not over. The hardness in his master’s breeches was impressively present; promised lust and violence. Damon, Grunt and Yellow Dick found their way a tad too late. Damon moaned that there was no enjoyment to be had for them, despite running all the way into the middle of this dead landscape. 

“Where’s Luton?” It had seemed Luton got caught too deep into the clutches of inebriation, and would not lift his face off the rug. It mattered not much to Ramsay. Though pity, he was to miss a lovely show. The young Bolton asked his newest bitch, if he remembered what had been said the night last. Defeated; the head lowering so submissive, Reek mumbled out.  
“Master said he will have me in front of his men, as punishment.”

“Yes, Reek. I did say that. Now tell us why, and be louder.” Reek shivered, but his master was patient.

“I-I deserve it,” he nearly choked, “Because I had been insolent, denied my master his pleasure.” He wanted to weep so badly. At least he remembered.

The dread was soaking into Reek, and Ramsay savoured all the little movements his yielding body shifted to. It rubbed against him in the best ways. The boys looked around, and at each other. They seemed to have all caught on. Some eyes were curious, while others were full of anticipation, expecting an exciting noon. Reek accidentally locked eyes with Damon, who seemed to be viewing him at all angles, as if beautiful scenes were playing over in his mind. Engrossed. Reek looked away fast; not wanting to catch more in that glimpse.

He was pushed down by Ramsay’s strong grip on his rags, and he was now kneeling eye to eye to everyone’s groins. At least they were not going to join in, he thought. Master could have it done, but out of his mercy he didn’t; he thought. So deeply kind. Why couldn’t the other settle with this? It was more that he wouldn’t, in his denial. But didn’t he see; that master is the only hope he’ll ever have now. He was grateful, just for not having to lie in the dungeons at night, pierced restlessly by frost.

“You’ll stay down like a good doggie, won’t you; nysters?” Reek did not cringe away hearing him talk that way, but instead crouched low.

“Of course master.” He even let his forearms touch the damp ground, to tell more of his intent to obey. That must have pleased Ramsay, because he was leaning down, carding his glove through Reek’s faded hair. Without needing to waste time, he pulled Reek’s breeches down, exposing his buttocks. He suddenly felt a rush of unease, he was being watched by these men, who have made him cower in the end. The prince made the breaking a little difficult, but seeing him now, they likely could wipe any filth on him and know he’d receive it groveling.  
It hurt too. Anything was a stab, since he resolved to choose a side. Reek wanted to do everything for his master but that disloyal stain in him was persistent, though less now, always leaving behind some ruinous emotion.

Reek lowered his face when two fingers jammed into his entrance. He whimpered from the pain. He felt some minor injuries for last night being strained, bringing an unsavoury sting along with the pain of the stretch. He was to bleed again. Maybe more this time around. Barely holding back a sob, he stayed still as the digits were hammered in deeper. They pulled out suddenly and Reek cried out a little. “This can get tiring,” Ramsay announced, “someone prepare my new bitch for me. Make it sleek.” They both knew this was just another way to degrade him, to show Reek how deeply down he is meant to crawl.

There was no protest when Grunt borrowed the handle of Ramsay’s shortsword and prodded in hard; letting the edge sink in low and lower. He didn’t resist, but it was hard not to cry, so he moaned in agony at Grunt’s rough ins and outs. Never mind the old cuts, he was sure new ones already formed. Ramsay let the others try too. Damon had a firm grip, and wouldn’t show him mercy, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, and Skinner would laugh nastily whenever he thrust hard enough to make Reek squeal helplessly. The poor thing couldn’t even lift his remaining little finger against them. Reek knew what became of disobedient wretches.

It made Ramsay extremely aroused, watching mouth watering things happen to his slave, while there was nothing for Reek to do but take it, even when it hurt so much. Especially after the tipsy fun he had last night. Yellow Dick was a little bored, so he didn’t participate. Alyn went last, and leaned in taunting him. His warm, maggoty breath didn’t affect the now slightly sobbing dog. Reek was too immersed in the torture, and the blood drops trickling near to his knees. Alyn liked going in savagely, whenever he wanted to drive in a cruel insult, then going slower, or faster. Just to see what other response he’d woo out. Yellow Dick kicked Reek lightly when he let out a wail.

At some point when it looked like Reek was near to blacking out, Ramsay made them halt. Said his lay was wet enough. Though it was more of the painful tenting he wanted to relieve. The boys subsided some, giving him all of the sweet access. Ramsay was getting rid of the bindings of his trousers, while kneeling down closely behind Reek. He was thumbing the crack, running his hand up and down rudely. The thumb slightly stained with the blood, and that’s when Ramsay commented how well this wet arse was prepared. It inspired plenty of amused banter following. When Ramsay got his cock out he lined it up on the twitching, damaged hole; sinking it in. Grabbed onto the hips as he deepened the assault, while Reek gasped, pressed his limbs against tiny stones and twigs on the ground, desperately trying to forget the other pain. It was bigger than the weapon, and filled in more spaces to force gaping. 

Ramsay began thrusting really fast at first, not wanting to come too soon. It emitted sounds from Reek that coaxed his sex even more though. That little whore didn’t know how he hardened Ramsay’s prick by just shedding a tear. It was impressive. Of course it was. Ramsay is the one who’s training him.

He called two boys over, telling them to help open up his little bitch further. Grunt and Skinner held each side of Reek’s bottom, and spread the halves apart unforgivingly as Ramsay drilled himself in, chuckling at the mortified, uncontrollable sniveling. They left him right as his bollocks nearly dipped in, and Reek was sobbing more.

The pace soon grew steady and harder by the thrust, going deep, making Reek bleed more. It slid easier, but the raw bits of flesh rubbing against Ramsay’s cock made Reek weep so loudly, he had to pause from the excitement. He hit Reek’s arse, letting his lower body twitch and tremble at the stimulation. Ramsay enjoyed the vibrations, and started on his pet again.

This time he rammed into his little Reek more dramatically. Pulling out almost fully, and brutally slamming back in, again and again. The screams that came out of Reek had Ramsay grunting in wild pleasure. He was sure his cock was ripping that little hole apart with every rough plunge.

It seemed Reek was wailing out something pathetically incoherent, but it didn’t make him stop. I only slowed him down a little. “Are you sorry yet my little bitch?” He went rougher yet.

“Yes! Yes master! Reek is so, so sorry, I’ll always submit! I’ll never talk back again, never disobey never, never!” he was crying like a little boy. “Please master, please, forgive me, it hurts so much, master, please!” The bastard’s boys watched on with fascination, some half hard from the display.

“Please what? _O- oh!_” He was reaching the edge, but wouldn’t let go if Reek didn’t answer him.

“Please, my lord, master; be more gentle, master is so rough, it will split in two!” He sobbed with face in the ground, waiting for another lesson. He couldn’t lie to his master. How he wished he could hide; but couldn’t. And now everyone will know how Ramsay makes use of Reek these days.

“If it split in two, then it would be a real cunt! Wouldn’t you, like to please your master, with your new cunt?” The thrusting continued until he heard Reek wail louder so terrified, when the image sank in. Ramsay climaxed inside of him with a roar, feeling satisfied. It was so much; it dripped out even before his cock pulled out.

Soon after, Ramsay had them all piss on him. He made it very clear to him; Reek is his to do with whatever Ramsay would. He was meek, and was now leaking and reeked of piddle. He felt too drained to do anything but blankly follow as he was pulled onto his feet, made every painful step to the camps. With his one and only master beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this took me forever! But I'm excused. Moving across the continent should count a valid pass...I wish.
> 
> Special thanks to the one who nudged me to finish it!

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely don't have a clue as to where I'm going with this, just left inconsistent fragments of plot in my mind.  
Also I'm relatively new to the 'interacting online scene', (meaning I almost know no-one from our thramster fandom) so if anyone is up for talking about this pairing in general you are most welcome!


End file.
